


Mac and Dennis Break the Universe

by LesbianRonaldMcDonald



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Codependency, F/F, Idiots in Love, M/M, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbianRonaldMcDonald/pseuds/LesbianRonaldMcDonald
Summary: Mac gets drunk and buys a time machine online. The kicker is; It actually works.Set very, very loosely around Flowers for Charlie. Torchwood/IASIP  crossover fic. The main story focuses on MacDennis but the whole gang is involved with shenanigans.You don’t have to know much about Torchwood to follow the story!





	1. Stolen Things and Too Much Tequila

**Author's Note:**

> The rating will change later on, not sure when, but it will!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood gets robbed, Mac and Dennis get hangovers

**5:47 PM**

**On a Tuesday**

**Cardiff, UK**

“I told you people, I don’t know nothin’!”

Jack Harkness stared intently at the man before him; jaw tight, hands clasped in fists on a shaky table. The dim light of the dingy pizza shop casted dramatic shadows across his face.

This guy was a bad liar.

“Gwen, leave us alone and lock the door.” Jack ordered, chair creaking beneath him as he leaned forward on his elbows.

The man squirmed in his handcuffs, visibly shaking. His eyes darted from side to side like a trapped animal.

Gwen took long strides to the old battered door of the stockroom. Her foot caught on a pile of unfolded pizza boxes as she did. The place was a mess. Jack wondered why they ever ordered from there.

“Don’t rile him up too much, Captain,” She said, sugar sweet. Her voice dropped solemnly. “Not like last time.”  

Gwen clicked the lock from the other side of the door. The sound hung as heavy as lead.

The man ( _Daniel,_ Jack read from his gaudy name tag) gaped like a fish, choking on the words stuck in his throat. Jack stifled a laugh, making a note to thank her later.

“Wh- what does that mean?” He gasped, sweat beading down his face.

“Do you really want to find out?” Jack squinted at him.

“Oh god! I uh. . .” Daniel took a big breath of air, shoulders tensing so tight it looked painful. “Look, I deliver pizza to you guys at least twice a week, okay? I knew something was funny ‘bout you lot. I may have gotten curious. . .”

Jack leaned back with his chin tipped up, glaring down at him like he was a dog that pissed on the nice rug.

“And?” Jack prompted.

“Well, I found a way in. All I did was walk in an’ out.” His northern accent was slurred and fast. He reminded Jack of a rubber band about to snap.

Jack raised his eyebrows accusingly. He crossed his arms over his chest. “ _And?_ ”

“Okay! Okay. Alright. You got me. I _may_ have swiped _one_ thing. Nothin’ big. Just some dinky little thing.” The tension in his shoulders let out, making him shrink pathetically small. “I don’t- I don’t have it anymore. I sold it online.”

Jack gritted his teeth so hard he almost felt them crack. He pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. _Of course._

“Who?”

“What?” Daniel sputtered.

“Who bought it?!” Jack snapped.

“I don’t know! Some bloke in America. Pretty sure he used a fake name.” He laughed, crazed and terrified. “E’ called himself Ronald McDonald.”

Jack had to bite down on a laugh as well.

“ _Of course_.” He sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

 

* * *

 

 

**2:15 PM**

**Two Days Earlier**

**Philadelphia, PA**

“Hey-oh,” Mac grumbled as he walked into Paddy’s. His head pounded. He could still taste  bile in his mouth under the mint of his toothpaste. He collapsed on the bar stool closest to the door, setting his forehead on the cold walnut counter. He reached out to Dee with a feeble hand. “Beer me.”

Dennis stumbled in close behind, looking slightly more put together. He took a seat next to Mac, propping up his head with a fist, stretching his other hand out to mirror Mac’s. “Me too.”

“Beer yourself, boners.” Dee smirked from behind the bar. Mac faintly heard banging coming from the basement. It vibrated up through the legs of his stool, straight to the pressure in his brain. “I’m not working. This girl,” Dee pointed smugly at herself. “has a date.”

“What?” Mac looked up at her blearily.

“No, you don’t,” Dennis laughed, shaking his head. “Your roots are longer than your gross, bony fingers. You look like shit, Dee.”

Dennis reached over the bar himself, grabbing two bottles of beer. Mac winced as they clinked together loudly. He popped the caps, then handed one to Mac.

Mac took a long swig before he spoke. “Yeah, you look terrible.” He wiped at his red, sunken eyes.

“Me? _I_ look terrible?” She gaped. “You _both_ look like god damn corpses! What the hell happened last night?”

Dennis opened his mouth, but no words came out. Mac’s gut twisted, he shot his friend a glance. Dennis was composed as ever.

“Shut up, bird.” He replied into the neck of his beer, smirking when Mac bubbled up with laughter.

“Yeah, stop squawkin’ at us, bird.” Mac managed to pick himself up from the bar. His hangover dulled slightly. He took another gulp. Dennis chuckled beside him.

“Who’d go out with you, anyway?” Mac changed the subject swiftly, hoping she didn’t notice the tension. “Haven’t you already scared off all the men in Philly?”

“His name is Noneya’,” She leaned in, hands splaying wide on the bar. Mac caught a whiff of her cheap perfume. “As in- Noneya’ business, assholes.” Dee grinned, pausing like she was waiting for stock laughter to die down.

“That was terrible, Dee.” Dennis scoffed. Mac blew a raspberry with his mouth and gave her a thumbs down.

The banging continued in the basement, louder than before. They all ignored the noise and carried on unphased.

“You guys are just jealous because I’m gettin’ laid and you’re not. Good luck tending bar without me, suckers!” Dee turned on her heel  and headed for the door.

“We always tend bar without you, you bitch!” Dennis called after her.

The door shut behind her with a clap and a rattle.

The twist in Mac’s gut returned when he realized they were left alone.

The banging below them paused, silence crept in uncomfortably. Mac held his breath until it started again. He ran a fingernail over the scratched veneer of the bar, pinky grazing a nasty cuss word. He took a sharp breath.

“Um- Dennis, about last night. . .” Mac blurted quietly before he could stop himself.

“Not talking about it.” Dennis warned. “We agreed not to talk about it.”

“But I-”

“ _No,_ ” Dennis held his index finger up, red seeping over his cheeks. Mac couldn’t decide if it was anger or blush. The hand hung delicately between them.

 _Not delicate_ , he thought, _deliberate_ . Delicate was not a word to describe Dennis. Mac knew better than that. His chiseled features and soft skin were delicate; but Dennis Reynolds was _not_ delicate.

(Not while he was sober, at least.)

They went a little wild at their monthly dinner the night before. Too many shots, too fast. They left Guigino’s early to go somewhere louder and more cramped. Another round of shots later, under the lasers and black lights, Dennis lost all his edge. He was delicate then.

Mac browned out pretty hard, but there were three specific moments that played in his head like a scratched record.

Dennis giving him a genuine compliment.

_“You look handsome.”_

Dancing close enough to feel Dennis’s breath on his neck _._

Mac, ruining the moment, closing the gap between their lips.

Mac nodded solemnly. They sat awkwardly beside each other, not sparing another glance.

They had a system for these things.

Mac would kiss him, caught up in a moment or a touch. Then, most of the time, Dennis pushed him off as quick as lightning.

(Although sometimes, he leaned in and let Mac kiss him as long and heavy as he pleased. It was just enough to keep him addicted. Kissing Dennis was a personal brand of heroine, devastating and amazing at the same time.)

No matter what, the incidents always ended with a fight- albeit physical or verbal. Or both. The fights never lasted long. The next day they would pretend nothing happened. Life carried on, like it had for years.

Every one of those moments hung over Mac like a crown of thorns. 

Mac cleared his throat and spoke with more confidence. “Dude, I think it happened again.”

“Not talking about it!” Dennis yelled, high and exasperated.

“No! I mean- Bro, I’m not talking about that.” Mac’s voice hushed, blush creeping up his cheeks. “Remember when I got piss drunk a few years ago and bought that time machine on eBay?”

Dennis pursed his lips. A smirk crawled up his features. “Yeah- I still can’t believe you thought it would work, even after you sobered up.”

A large thump made the floor vibrate under their feet. Then, a muffled sound of metal clattering on concrete.

“Hey! It could happen, dude. I’ve seen much weirder shit. Charlie was the one who said it was gonna work!” Mac yelled defensively.

“And you _believed_ him?” Dennis retorted.

Almost on cue, Charlie popped out of the basement hatch in the middle of the bar. He gasped, coughing and covered in grime. “Holy shit. Oh my god-”

“Weirder shit has happened. It could have worked. I think mine was defective.” Mac reasoned. Charlie wheezed in the background. “Anyway, I must’ve bought another one. Pretty lame though. I looked at it this morning and the description said it only goes back, like, one minute tops. Total rip off, dude.”

Dennis squinted at him like Charlie did when he tried to read. “It’s a rip off because time machines _don’t exist_!”  

“Ohh- dammit. Oh man. I pissed it off. It’s pissed. _God_ dammit,” Charlie panted loudly on the floor, laying flat on his back with his eyes closed.

Mac and Dennis shared a look of frustration. Dennis hooked his eyebrow, turning to the scruffy man.

“Whats, uh. What's goin’ on there, buddy?” He asked incredulously. “We’re trying to have a conversation over here.”

“Big rat. Huge fucker. Too fast. I think- I think all the poison made them into mutants. Ohh god- That’s it! They’re mutants.”  Charlie ran his dirty hands over his face, leaving faint streaks of something reddish brown. “I need a break. Beer me.” He reached out to them, fingers wiggling with impatience.

“That’s rough, dude.” Mac responded flatly, offering no further comments. He reached over for a beer and set it on the floor on its side, pushing it gingerly with the heel of his boot. “Incoming!”

It rolled slowly until it bumped Charlie’s outstretched fingers. Charlie sat up, leaning against a nearby pillar. He popped the cap with a swiss army knife Mac gave him for his fifteenth birthday. He let out a large breath of air and looked at them for the first time since he materialized into the bar.

“So Mac bought another time machine, huh?” Charlie took a big gulp of beer. “Gotta say, Mac. The last one was pretty fun before it busted an’ all.”

Dennis rolled his eyes so hard he thought he saw his own brain. Mac smacked his hand down on the bar top, grin too wide for his face.

“Yes! See, Dennis? Charlie gets it!”


	2. The Undo Button

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood touches down in anerica; and Mac gets a package

**5:17 AM**

**On a Friday**

**Philadelphia, PA**

 

The plane lurched as it landed on the hot, cracked pavement. Ianto wiped sleep from his eyes. His head was practically cuddled into Jack’s shoulder. He sat up blearily.

“Nice of you to join us.” Jack gave a warm smile.

Ianto didn’t remember falling asleep, but he wasn’t surprised that he did. The past few days were a blur after the pizza guy incident. He had to check Torchwood’s entire archives twice to make sure nothing else was taken. Everyone was on edge.

Jack had a jet ready as soon as they got a location on the buyer. Gwen volunteered to hold down the base in Cardiff, which was a relief to Ianto. He knew he would have gotten stuck with the job if she hadn’t. He was ready to prove himself as more than just a butler and a glorified secretary.

“Here, already?” Ianto asked.

“Yup. Philadelphia, USA.” Jack sighed like he was reminiscing. Ianto wondered if it wasn’t his first time in the city. “This is where they cracked the liberty bell, you know. Lots a’ history in these streets.”

Ianto looked out at the flat, dull city beyond the tarmac. Sirens rung faintly in the distance.

“What's the deal with the liberty bell?” Owen butted in, turning around and leaning over the back of his seat to face them. “Americans are so weird. It’s just a big, broken bell. Not even as old as my flat.”

Ianto laughed. Toshiko hummed in disagreement from her window.

“I think it’s quite nice, actually. It may not be as old, but it’s still a neat piece of history.” She said, pushing a peice of hair behind her ear with a smile.

“Whatever.” Owen dismissed, looking back to Jack and Ianto. “What’s next on the dockett?”

“Yes. Ianto, explain the plan.” Jack patted his leg affectionately.

Jack had booked a private jet so they could talk about these things openly without witnesses, it was also the quickest option. Ianto wondered how much money it cost, but then again, Jack always had strings to pull. There were always favors to cash in when the time came for it. He was a mystery, even after years of knowing the man. Ianto pulled out his tablet and tapped into his notes.

“Right. So. The goal is to find the guy, confiscate the artifact, and leave without a trace. Whatever happens, we can _not_ ask for help from any other Torchwood branches. This is a fairly simple mission so-”

“Why not?” Owen asked, brows furrowed. “This hardly calls for the A Team. I don’t know why we had to come at all.”

Jack sighed, almost a laugh. He drummed his fingers over Ianto’s thigh, angry and anxious. “We are on thin ice with Torchwood. If they found out we lost one of our most powerful artifacts, they would have our heads.”  

Toshiko turned in her seat to match Owen. “ _That_ , of course, that- And, I think this could be a fun trip. Isn’t it nice to travel somewhere normal for once, Owen? We can at least make the most of a bad situation.”

The jet slowly rolled to a stop.

“But this is _America._ ” Owen whined. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what happens here.”

“It’s only a few days, don’t be a baby.” Jack snapped. “If this thing gets in the wrong hands, it will affect everyone.”

Ianto leaned back in his seat, letting his eyes fall shut.

“That's good to know,” Ianto laughed. “I hope he’s not some bloody idiot.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**10:50 PM**

**Same day**

 

“Dennis, Dennis, Dennis!” Mac barreled into their apartment like a bullet. “It’s here! It’s here! It’s- well, it’s kinda smaller than I thought. But it’s here! Wanna test it out?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Mac.” Dennis stated from where he was lounging on the couch. He pried his eyes away from the TV to give the man a endearing glare.  

Mac smacked the bubble envelope in his hands, eyes lit like a Christmas tree. He had that dumb, toothy grin he always did when he got excited about things. He got excited about a lot of things. Mac stared at him, waiting for a response. Mildly annoyed, Dennis took the bait.

“Well, are you going to open it, or what?” He sat up, patting the empty space on the couch. He muted the TV that was playing a dumb home improvement show.

 _“Open concept with french doors,”_ A woman with average tits said, it was all the same. Dennis was barely watching anyway. Mac’s stupidity was always quality entertainment.

“This is gonna change our _lives_ dude!” Mac assured, giddiness seeping through every syllable. Dennis rolled his eyes, but Mac’s energy was infectious. He felt his lips curling into a smile. He was only excited for Mac to realize how much of an idiot he was.

Mac scrambled to sit beside him, swiping a letter opener from the kitchen counter. The couch cushion dipped as he sat. The shift brought them closer together. Mac’s side felt warm on his own. He thought about moving away, but didn’t.

Mac stabbed into the envelope like a butcher, ripping it the rest of the way with his hands. Dennis noticed the way his muscles bulged as he tore into the plastic. Little pops speckled in with the sound of torn paper.

Dennis thought Mac was going to break the damn thing before he could realize it wouldn’t work.

A small box dropped onto the floor with a _pat_. It was in what looked like an evidence bag with a long serial number at the top followed by a paper label. The label was full of writing, but was stabbed with holes from Mac. Entire words were taken out by the gouges. Dennis leaned in to read what was left, but Mac threw it aside without a glance.

Mac started inspecting the box. He was talking, but Dennis didn’t listen. He was too busy staring at the object. It was small, toy-like, and  fit in the palm of Mac’s hand. There was one big button in the middle, and a small sliding dial next to it. The gleam on the box made it look like plastic, but it distinctly _wasn’t_ somehow.  The dial was numbered with strange markings. The whole thing was a iridescent blue with glowing green swirls around the back and sides.

He watched Mac slide the dial up and down its track. The notch was left flush to the top of the dial. Dennis saw a gleam of anticipation in Mac’s eyes, thumb hovering over the button.

“Are you ready?” He asked mischievously, leaning closer to Dennis like they weren’t already shoulder-to-shoulder.

Dennis scoffed at him. “Do you really believe this thing will-”

Mac pressed the button.

A hollow _click_ cut off whatever he was going to say. The air pushed out of his lungs like he was punched hard in the sternum; vision white and dream-like. He felt absolutely nothing. One second. Two seconds.

It all came rushing back as quick as it left.

Dennis fell on his ass in their apartment complex’s elevator. Mac was right beside him, groaning as he rubbed his side.

Confusion clouded his mind. The punch lingered in his chest and his eyes darted around the moving elevator.

_Ding._

The doors opened to their floor. Dennis stood up on shaky legs. He turned to Mac, still splayed on the metal floor. His face was stuck in the dumbest expression Dennis had seen on him. Not that he was going to hold it against him, Dennis had a feeling he looked just as idiotic.

The box was back in the bubble envelope in Mac’s hand, intact and unopened.

They scrambled out of the elevator and made their way back into the apartment in stunned silence. The TV had been unmuted, it played the same scene from when Mac had barged in. Dennis shut the door and finally remembered how to talk.

“What the hell was that, Mac?” He asked, trying to hold himself together. Mac went to the counter to get the letter opener again. “How did you do that?!”

“I- I don’t know, Dennis! All I did was press the button!” He yelled back, swinging the envelope and letter opener around.

Mac stabbed into the envelope, and pulled the evidence bag out without any holes. The box sat heavy in the plastic. The green swirls had turned a blinking red. Mac pinched the top of the bag with two fingers.

“What the hell is it doing? Why is it doing that?!” He gaped.

“How the hell should I know?” Dennis sneered back. He tried to remember how much he drank earlier; or if Frank dropped acid in his beer.

He didn’t know what to think. His brain kept trying to find logical explanations, but every track lead to a brick wall.

The item made a small beep. Mac jumped like a spooked cat, holding the bag even farther away from himself. The lights on the box stopped flashing, turning back to green.

Dennis grabbed the bag out of Mac’s hands.

“Careful Den, I think it might explode or something!” Mac ran a hand through his hair, loosening the gel. A piece flopped over his creased forehead. He was beginning to sweat.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to _read the instructions_ before you start messing shit up?” Dennis replied, taking a closer look at the writing. The label was a thick, professional sticker with a paragraph or two in cursive letters.

“Reading is for nerds.” Mac’s face shifted. His terror turned into awe. “I didn’t _actually_ think it was going to work. I’m- I mean _woah_ dude. I bet you feel stupid now, huh.”

Dennis shot daggers at him with his eyes.

“Shut the hell up, Mac. I’m trying to read this shit.”

“Then read it out loud,” Mac whined, stepping into Dennis’s space. “You know I’m bad with- what’s it called, the fancy-letter writing thing. . .”

“It’s cursive, moron.” He replied, putting a hand up to stop Mac from getting closer. Dennis took a deep breath. “Alright, but don’t interrupt me.”

Mac nodded at him with bright eyes. Dennis pointed as he read so Mac could follow along. The writing was messy.

“ _The Undo Button: Allows a user to travel up to a minute back in time._ Hm, right here, that’s just a description of the thing. . . _The dial is zero to sixty seconds_ . We knew that. _Then press the button._ Yeah, you couldn’t stop yourself on that one,”

“Well-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Dennis shushed him and continued. “Oh! Mac, listen to this. _The artifact has a rest period of however long you traveled. During the rest period, the lights will turn red and blink._ That makes sense. Blah, blah, blah, _unknown origins. Found by Captain Jack Harkness-_ blah, blah, blah- skip the boring shit- _Notes: Use with extreme caution_ . _Property of Torchwood, Cardiff UK_.”

Dennis finished reading and carefully opened the bag to take a closer look at the ‘artifact’. It was heavy in his palm. Dennis felt a ache deep in his brain.

“Okay. That clears up, like, not much, but a little bit.” Mac said, seemingly more calmed down than a minute ago. “But, I’m still confused.”

“Yeah, I mean- yeah.” Dennis tried to make a coherent sentence but his mind was fried for the night.

“I get the time travel thing,” Mac clarified, nodding like he knew what the hell he was talking about. “But, why didn’t you stay on the couch?”

“What?” Dennis blinked.

Mac looked like he was putting together a trigganometry equation. “You were sitting on the couch when I came in. You didn’t go back in _your_ time, you came back with _me_.”

Dennis stared at him blankly. Maybe Frank did drop acid in his beer.

“What the hell, Mac? What does that even mean?” Mac was right, that’s what scared him. The world felt tilted on its axis, and all he could do was try to keep standing. “What did you do to me?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know. I think I’m gonna have to run some tests to figure this out” He reached for the blue box in Dennis’s hand.

Dennis yanked it away from him. “No! Goddammit. It is way too late for this.”

“Dennis, it’s only eleven! And it’s mine, anyway.” He knew they were both exhausted, but Mac was too stubborn and worked up to admit it. Dennis already felt unbearably overwhelmed. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Just hand it over, man.” Mac pleaded.

Dennis set the box on the kitchen table (a calculated risk), as expected, Mac went to grab it. He crowded into Mac’s space, pushing him back until he was pinned against the counter. Dennis felt the breath hitch in Mac’s chest as he pressed against him. His fingertips grazed over Mac’s arms, dragging like a match on a striker. He stopped at Mac’s biceps and rubbed circles into his tan skin.

“Let’s just watch a movie, Mac. I’m tired.” Dennis made his voice rough and low. He may have laid it on a bit thick, but he didn’t want Mac to even _think_ about that stupid box without his supervision. “You can play with it tomorrow.”

Mac practically melted under his gaze. “I- Yeah. Of course, Den. Movie sounds good.”

“Thanks, baby boy.” Dennis purred. He pulled away with a smirk.  

He walked to the living room and flopped on his side of the couch. Mac slowly followed behind him. Dennis put on whatever was already in the DVD player.

“Just so you know, I know what you’re doing. You’re just trying to get me away from that thing, dude.” Mac looked at his hands as he talked, bouncing his right leg. “You could have just asked.”

“Just enjoy the movie, Mac.” Dennis said airily, lacking his usual bite.

Mac sighed in response, relaxing into the couch with a pout. Dennis put his feet in his lap, Mac let him, resting his hands over Dennis’s ankles on reflex. He glanced at the kitchen a few times before his eyes settled on the TV screen.

Mac fell asleep first. Dennis listened for his little snores, feeling the rise of his chest, Mac’s breath evened into a slow and steady ebb and flow.

His skin itched with the intimacy of it.

When Dennis decided Mac wasn’t faking, he let himself drift off as well.

Twenty minutes later, he felt a small earthquake. It barely woke him up, but he remembered the rattling from their junk on the walls. He fell back asleep easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes finally the set up is almost over. Thank you for reading! Also, don't be scared to talk to me! I love feedback!


	3. Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dennis sets up ground rules, Charlie does Charlie work

**Later that night**

Mac slept on the couch until about three in the morning. That was when Dennis woke him up and told him to go to bed. Mac nodded and watched Dennis slip away into the darkness before heading for his room.

It was easier for him to fall asleep with Dennis. He was warm, grounding Mac to the couch like a weighted blanket. Mac would never admit it out loud, but he was a cuddly sleeper. He liked to have a warm body to hold. That, and the familiarity of his best friend made him especially comfortable.

Mac’s bed was cold, but forgiving. He relaxed into the mattress, muscles aching from sleeping on the cramped couch. The ceiling fan lazily spun above him. It was slow enough for Mac to track it with his eyes in the dark room. His thoughts spun with the blades, the blue box mocked him from the kitchen table.

He sat there until the sun started peaking through the blinds. He dozed off a few times, but he would always wake up to that hollow click of the box and the firm push of Dennis pinning him against the counter.

Dennis was always toying with him to get what he wanted. He was such an asshole.

 _We agreed not to talk about it._ Dennis’s voice echoed in his head.

 _Then why do we keep doing this?_ He replied to nothing.  

Mac thought about everything he could do with his new time machine. One minute wasn’t long, but he could work with it. He could finally play with Dennis the way Dennis played with him since high school. He would have no idea, and Mac would finally have some control in their relationship.

 _Friendship,_ he corrected.

He thought about his fist connecting with Dennis’s jaw, hard enough to break his own fingers. Blood smeared messily over his knuckles as he erases it with one finger like it never happened. Because it never _did_ happen.

His fantasy slipped away from him as he replaced his fist with his mouth. Lips sliding over Dennis’s pale jaw, sucking bruises into the tendons of his neck. Slender hands grabbing him in all the right places. All erased by one little. . .

_Click._

Mac jolted awake, breathing heavy. He felt plastic Jesus watching from his crucifix on the wall. Mac put his face in his palms, willing his boner to go away.  

He heard noises coming from the other room. Dennis was awake. Mac started to stretch his limbs and sat on the edge of his bed. He looked down and realized he never changed out of his clothes from the night before.

He peeled off his sweaty shirt and threw it into a heap of clothes in the corner.

The living room smelled like coffee. Dennis was at the kitchen table in his reading glasses, writing fervently in a notebook. The box sat on the table beside him. He didn’t notice as Mac stepped into the room.

He was headed for the shower, but curiosity got the best of him. “What’cha doin’ dude?” He asked, trying to peak at Dennis’s writing.

Dennis looked up at Mac as he spoke. “Putting down some ground rules.” His notes looked as chaotic as his curly brown hair. Mac tilted his head.

“Uh-huh.” He grunted. “Why?”

Dennis put in the final pen stroke with finesse, holding the page up to marvel at his handiwork.

“Because, Mac. I don’t trust this thing one bit. It’s a very dangerous and _very_ powerful.” He picked up the box, gesturing with it as he spoke. “ _But,_ I’m not a fucking idiot. We are going to abuse the hell out of this thing.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mac said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to use it all the time, dude.”

Dennis patted the chair next to him, Mac sat. He took off his glasses swiftly, an unreadable expression covered his face. Dennis was always hard to read, but he looked more unwound than usual.

“Now, I’ve watched enough movies about time travel to know it’s a pretty messy subject,”

“Yeah, like Inception. I didn’t get that one either.” Mac nodded along.

“Mac, Inception is about dreams! I’ve explained this a thousand t-,” Dennis clenched his fists on the table. “Whatever. Not important.” He tapped his fingers on his notebook. “I’ve compiled a list of rules, so we don’t break the time continuum or some stupid shit like that. I’m gonna type this up in a contract for us later, but for now we’ll sign this.”

Mac hummed in protest. “Who said I would let you use it? It’s my time machine.”

“You dragged me into this when _you_ fucked up _my_ timeline! Which, by the way, is rule number one,” Dennis pointed at his writing. “Don’t touch people. I’m pretty sure you brought me with you because you were being all touchy-feely. Thanks for that, asshole.”

Mac thought for a moment. It made sense. "Okay, yeah. Sure.” He hated being told what to do, but Dennis had a point.

“Rule number two; No killing your own grandfather, or any shit like that.” Dennis contorted his face in thought. “I know it only goes back a minute, but I read up on time paradoxes online and this was a big one.”

“Why would I do that? I love my grandpa.” Mac shrunk in his seat.

Dennis held his hands out in front of himself, moving them like they were guiding his thoughts. “It’s just a- It’s not literal, it’s- Ah, Goddammit, this is already confusing.” He took a deep breath. “Just don’t make a mess. I am not cleaning up your time mess, okay? And don’t do anything to land yourself in jail either.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Mac agreed smiling, crossing his arms over the table. “That’s easy, dude. I’m gonna be so smart with this thing. Gonna use it so smartly, you’ll see.”

Dennis rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. “Yeah, sure.” He slid his finger over some messy scribbles and crossed out notes to get to the third bullet. “Rule number three, honesty. We gotta tell eachother everything we do. Every time you use this, I want an update. Same for me to you. We have to keep track of this, time is sensitive and I don’t wanna piss it off.”

Mac bit his lip as he agreed. “Of course, total honesty bro. Makes sense.” He lied. A lot of his ideas hinged specifically on _not_ telling Dennis. He would just tell him every other time he used it. It was just a small breach in the contract, not a break. More like a bend. Yeah, a bend.

“And finally, rule number four. I get to take it every other day. I have some _great_ ideas for this thing.” Dennis preened at him.

“Wait- Why would I agree to that?” Mac furrowed his eyebrows, tone sharp and loud.

“Why?” Dennis mocked. “What do you think the gang would want to do with this?” He spoke carefully, eyes piercing. He held out his pen for Mac to take. “Or, did you _not_ want me to tell them?” Dennis babied his voice. Mac squirmed in his seat.

_Fucking bastard._

“Fine! Whatever, asshole.” Mac snatched the pen and signed the paper. “But, I was gonna let you use it anyway. Because you’re my best friend and we share everything. So. . .” He trailed off, face flush as he looked to Dennis.

Dennis signed the paper next to him. His eyes crinkled with a sly smile, lips shiny from the lip balm he was constantly applying. Mac gulped and shook the thought out of his head.

“Go put a shirt on, Mac.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was gonna take a shower.” He replied meekly. Mac  got up and went into the bathroom.

“Hey, Mac,” Dennis called barely loud enough to hear. Mac popped his head back into the kitchen. “You can take it first. Since it’s technically yours. Nice find, dude. This thing is pretty badass.”

It’s a bad compliment, but Mac drinks it up like a dying man. He grinned. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Den.”

 

* * *

 

 

**1:45 PM**

**Saturday**

“Hey Charlie,” Dee greeted as she walked into the back office. Charlie had been baiting the rat traps in the vents, but he welcomed a break. It was hard to breathe in there. “Did you feel that earthquake last night?”

Charlie stared at her blankly. “Earth. . . quack?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, earth- _quake_. When the ground makes everything shake and shit.”

“Ooh,” Charlie nodded, eyes lighting up. “The _earthshake_. Why didn’t you just say that? The earth doesn't quack, Dee.”

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Did you feel it or not, dildo? Simple question.”

“Of course I felt it. The entire world was shaking.” Charlie said patronizingly. He popped a piece of old cheese in his mouth. Dee grimaced at him.

“That’s not how earthquakes work, dumbass.” He waved a hand at her, nibbling another piece of cheese. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you- is that why there are like, a hundred broken bottles behind the bar?” Her voice was strained. Charlie held his hands up in surrender.

“Listen,” He started. Dee barked an angry laugh and muttered profanities under her breath. “I keep telling you guys these rats are outta control.”

“Rats? Charlie, _rats_? How much glue have you been huffing? Oh goddamn-” She put her hands on her hips and sighed. Her whole body moved with the breath. “Why didn’t you at least clean up the glass?”

“Well I-” He ate some more old cheese. “It’s- I have a system, okay?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “System?” She deadpanned. “You just wanted to eat old cheese instead of doing your job.”

Charlie sputtered a protest, but it died quickly. He gave her a sharp look and left the office to get the mop. “You bitch,” He muttered under his breath.

Reluctantly, he worked behind the bar mopping up the liquor. Glass skittered over the hardwood as he swept it into a dustpan, shards glittering in the dim light. He thought of ways to explain it all to the rest of the gang- or at least get them to believe the truth.

He heard a groan behind him. Dee was sat at a table by herself, grimacing at her phone. She looked tired, more tired than she usually did. A lit cigarette hung lazily in her hand.

“Everything okay?” Charlie asked. She looked at him like she was expecting a punchline. When it never came, she conceded into speaking.

“Every guy I date is an asshole.” She huffed.

“Yeah. Obviously.”

Dee ignored his comment. She tapped her ash into the tray on the table. “I went on a date the other night. I was real excited for it too, until this guy wouldn’t stop talking about his dumbass internet startup. He kept trying to kiss me and shit. Not even a good lay.”

Charlie clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he had been holding this back for a while. “See, that’s your problem, Dee. You don’t give a shit about these guys. I mean, they’re all terrible- but you don’t even seem to genuinely like anything about them. You should like the people you go out with.”

Dee was silent, the words rolled around in her brain as Charlie wiped up the last of the mess. The gang always told him he was stupid, but they always came to him for his opinions. Mac told him he was good at reading people, Charlie argued that he just talked before he thought. It didn’t always work out for him. Dee needed to hear what he thought, even if it would piss her off.

He searched her features for protest. She stubbed out her cigarette, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah.” She said as smoke cascaded around her. It drew designs in the air and disappeared into the haze of the bar. “I just never really had feelings for a guy. I don’t even know what that would be like, y’know?”

Sometimes he forgot how similar Dee and Dennis were. It was times like then that reminded him that they really were twins. If he squinted, she almost looked like him. Charlie didn’t know how she felt. He was a romantic, afterall. Dennis never liked his romantic advice, she probably wouldn’t either. He offered no response, and carried on with his own business. Dee stared at her phone, and Charlie went back to the office. He was done talking about Dee’s dumb feelings.

His mind switched back to focus on one thing; catching that mutant rat bastard.

He fiddled with two medium wire traps. They weren't usually his style, but he exhausted all other options. The rat had broken out of all of his normal traps- it even took a few licks from his rat stick- it didn’t even seem phased by any of it. Charlie saw it eat straight poison and it still outran him. He had to settle for live traps.

He almost had it that morning until it ran and leaped up on the liquor shelf _(Can rats even jump like that?)_. Maybe catching it live was the best option- for study of course. Not torture.

He knew Frank was gonna be pissed, all the bottles that busted were pretty expensive. If he caught that bastard he would be able to show the gang he wasn’t crazy. One look into its evil eyes and they would know.

He baited the traps and set one in the basement and one on the keg room. He had seen the fucker snooping around there. The animal slunk in the darkness like a shadow, Charlie never recalled getting a full look at him.

He saw the glowing red eyes, the dark black fur, it’s sharp needle teeth, the long scarlet tail; but never all at once. They came one glance at a time, like he was putting together a nightmare puzzle.

Charlie huffed a bag of glue in the keg room as he psyched himself up to finally get rid of the fucker.

He walked back into the bar, Dee was gone. He popped open a beer and toasted to himself.

_Rat bastard won’t even see what hit him._


	4. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac gets mad at Dennis, Frank gets mad at Charlie, and Torchwood visits Paddy's Pub

**5:28 PM**

**Saturday Night**

Dennis drove them to the bar later than usual (especially on a Saturday), but they couldn’t give less of a shit. Mac felt like a king with his new toy. 

They spent a good amount of time just testing it out. Dennis tried to count the seconds to see how accurate the dial was (fairly accurate, apparently), and Mac tried pressing it when it was red and blinking (like the writing said, it didn’t work), then they argued about how the hell the thing worked at all. Dennis tried explaining wormholes to Mac, but Mac was set on thinking it was sent from God (the only sensible explanation).  

They took turns with it, making sure they weren’t touching before they pressed the button. Everything went a lot smoother than the first time they used it. Even though they agreed the earthquake was unrelated, they were more careful just in case. 

When Mac had the button, time felt endless. He told Dennis he was going to press it, and the next second Dennis was handing him the device saying, “Here, you go first,” like Mac hadn’t pressed it five times already. He enjoyed the sweetness in Dennis’s voice as he said it and the brush his own rough hand against his soft fingers. 

He let Dennis have it after. Dennis was already calling its praises before Mac could blink. Mac couldn’t help but feel stripped of the power he had. He wondered what Dennis did to him in all his redos. 

“I only did it once,” Dennis clarified. Mac wasn’t sure if he believed him. They both  _ did _ sign the contract (the official one Dennis typed in a very adult and professional way) and Dennis took contracts pretty seriously. 

Mac still didn’t quite believe him.

“Yeah, me too! Just once.” Mac lied. Dennis smiled at him and they continued messing around. 

On the way to the bar Dennis asked him what he was planning to do with it all day.

Mac thought hard, but nothing specific came to mind. 

“I don’t know. Anything, really.” He shrugged.

“You’re so pathetic,” Dennis laughed. “I am going to get so many girls! This thing was  _ made _ for the D.E.N.N.I.S system.”

It was expected, but Mac still felt an ache in his chest. He tried to not look pissed off. Mac knew as soon as Dennis’s day came, he would be pushed aside by any moderately attractive woman he came across.

Mac didn’t have a clear idea of what he was going to do, but he was thinking about pranks on the gang and hanging out with his best friend. They could have messed with customers and schemed together, but it all turned bitter once Dennis started talking. All Dennis wanted to do was get laid. 

“Great.” He said sarcastically. Mac clenched his fist and bit his tongue the rest of the car ride.

He knew Dennis could feel the tension, he read Mac like a book. They got to the bar, Dennis parked on the far side of the street and stopped the engine. The dull rumble putted out into a suffocating silence.

“Whatever. Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” Dennis huffed. Mac didn’t follow him, he just happened to be heading to the same place. He caught the wooden door before it closed behind Dennis. 

The first thing they noticed was the yelling. Frank and Charlie were arguing. It wasn't unusual for Paddy’s, but it was more heated than a regular fight. 

The second thing they noticed was their liquor shelves. Only about five or six bottles stood on the lonely planks. Mac furrowed his eyebrows. Dennis did the same, mouth hanging open in shock. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dennis put his hands up and motioned for the men to calm down. They were both behind the bar, peanut shells were strewn all over the surface of the bar and floor. Something wet and sticky made his shoe catch on the hardwood. Charlie had Frank in a tight headlock. “What the hell happened here? What happened to all the liquor?”

Charlie let Frank out of his grasp, he ran to Dennis to get the first word in. The old man massaged his throat and coughed.

“Guys- you gotta believe me. It was the rat! It jumped up there and-” Frank interrupted him with a yell. He stomped over to them.

“Tell Charlie that's a load of bull!” Frank turned to Charlie and poked him hard in the chest. “Fess up or I’m lockin’ you out tonight.” 

“You can’t do that, Frank! Dennis, Mac, I swear I didn’t do it.”

Mac and Dennis shared a confused look, pushing their own fight aside for a moment. Dennis sighed dramatically. Mac was already tired of being there. 

“You do know it’s Saturday, right? You both know we are going to open a bar, on a Saturday night, with almost no liquor?” Dennis’s face got red. He was yelling. Mac could tell he was freaking out, but he deflated and feigned cool. Dennis tapped his chin, thinking. “Okay. Alright, I can make this work. Where’s Dee?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen her.” Frank said.

“I saw her this morning, but she didn't stay long.” Charlie added. “No idea where she went. Stupid bird won’t pick up her phone.”

“That bitch.” Dennis groaned. “Well, we still have beer. We can close early if we need to.”

Frank and Charlie nodded in agreement. Mac pursed his lips and let out a hum. “I can make a quick run to the store. It’s not that far.” He looked to Dennis, who shook his head. “If I leave now I can make it before they close.” 

“What? Mac, no. People are gonna start coming in soon. You need to be here to help me with the bar. Dee’s not here, I can’t do it by myself.” Dennis was giving him a firm look. He felt Dennis’s hand sneak to the dip of his back, it rubbed slow circles. “Stay here. We can deal for tonight.” 

Mac felt his heart leap, he leaned into the touch, but ultimately pulled away. “No, I think I should go. You said it yourself, dude. We need more than beer for a Saturday night.” 

Dennis almost looked hurt, he crossed his arms and looked away, fuming. Mac didn’t care, he was still mad from the car. Frank pulled out his wallet and gave Mac his credit card. 

“Go. Make it snappy!” He grunted. He glared at Charlie as he walked away. “I’m still lockin’ you out.” 

Charlie stomped and shook his head; they went back to arguing. Dennis crossed his arms, ready to chew Mac out for going against him.

Mac was out the door before Dennis could say anything. He was going to be pissed, but Mac was sure he was more pissed. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and scuffed his boot on the concrete. The chilly fall air blew past him, making him shiver.

Stupid Dennis. Stupid, manipulative, ego-maniac Dennis. Stupid Dennis with his soft hands and amazing cheekbones.  

_ What? _

Mac let out a big sigh, shaking his head. They could have gotten by without a run to the store. Even Saturdays were slow at Paddy’s. But he had to get out of there. He dreaded having to go back, it sounded like one big headache.

It was supposed to be a fun day of fucking around with his time machine. So much for that, huh.

The sun was setting, it made the sky orange and the wind feel colder. The days were getting shorter, Mac missed the extra hour of daylight. He liked the leaves though. They crunched under his feet satisfyingly. If he was under a streetlight, he could almost see his breath. Fall was his favorite season, but his feet were heavy with dread. Leave it to Dennis to ruin the things he loves.

His phone blared loudly from his jeans. His heart skipped a beat.  _ Don’t be Dennis. Don’t be Dennis. Don’t be Dennis. _

It was Dee. Mac picked up.

“Ey-yo!” She yelled as soon as he put it to his ear. “What’s up, Ronald?”

Mac blushed at the mention of his legal name. “Dee what the hell are you doing? Are you drunk?” 

“Wanna blow off work and get blasted?” 

Mac tilted his head and bit his lip. 

“Where?”

* * *

 

 

 

**6:43 PM**

**Saturday Night**

The address he found was in the bad part of south Philadelphia. Jack rounded up the team and left their hotel around six. He didn’t want to be out later than they had to. It was a simple recon mission, so they weren’t planning on spending much time there.

They needed to work fast though. The earthquake the night before made Jack worry.

_ Paddy’s Pub _

Half of the sign was covered in bird shit, the other in grime. The face of the building was about the same. It looked abandoned if not for the neon Open sign and faint music coming from inside. He let out a low whistle and turned to his crew.

“Classy place, huh?” He joked. Toshiko half-smiled, she was humoring him. Ianto inspected his surroundings, taking in the scenery of a garbage fire in an abandoned lot. Owen just laughed to himself.

“Hope you all got your tetanus shots.” Owen said as he opened the door for them. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

There wasn’t much of a crowd. There wasn’t a crowd at all, actually. Other than a few drunks, they were the only customers around. 

The bartender was a pale man with curly hair, his face was flush red as he yelled at a smaller guy in a battered green jacket. The employees didn’t notice them walk in. 

Toshiko ushered them into a booth. It smelled like piss and cigarettes. The cushion sunk into the seat, strips of duct taped spattered the faux leather surface to keep the stuffing in. They were close to the bathrooms, a bleach scent wafted by every other minute.  

Owen made another snide comment, Toshiko and Ianto laughed. Jack listened to the argument going on behind the bar.

“Of course Frank is pissed!” The bartender yelled, lazily wiping the counter. “You broke half our stock!”

The smaller man knocked back a whole beer, then replied. “Listen dude, it’s like,  _ way  _ more complicated than you think. You’ll see when I get this goddamn rat ba-” 

The bartender clapped a hand over the guy’s mouth. He put on a fake smile. “Ha, ha. Nice one, Charlie! So funny. No rats here, though. This is a rat-free bar!” Jack was glad they didn’t serve food. 

Charlie, Jack assumed, bit the bartender’s hand and struggled away. 

“Gwen got lucky on this one.” Owen muttered, watching them fight. He jabbed Jack with his elbow, shaking him out of his daze. “Think that’s our guy?” He pointed at the curly haired bartender in a plaid blue shirt. Jack clucked his tongue.

“Not sure. Let’s get some drinks and lay low for a while. We can’t look around when it’s this quiet.” The bartender caught his eye. Jack gave him a charming smile. “I’m gonna go get some intelligence.” 

“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it now?” Toshiko teased with a wink. Ianto huffed in his seat, Jack waved her off.

He walked to the bar, long blue coat flowing behind him. The bartender took notice and gave him a smile as he kept wiping down the bar.

“Nice coat.” He whistled. “Vintage?”

Jack chuckled, remembering the day it was issued to him. He reasoned it  _ was  _ vintage. He reasoned he was pretty vintage himself.

“Something like that, yeah.” He leaned on the bar. “Can I get four beers on tap?” 

The bartender swung the rag over his shoulder. “Comin’ right up, my man!” He pulled four pint glasses out and began filling them one at a time. “You and your friend, you visiting?” 

Jack cocked and eyebrow, turning to look back at the table. Toshiko and Owen had left. Ianto stared at him with wide eyes and shrugged. Jack clenched his teeth, swearing under his breath. “Um. Yeah. I grew up here, but I moved to the UK a few years back.” He half-lied, trying to make a convincing story. “My friend over there has never been to the states, we’re here for a wedding. How’d you know?” 

The man shrugged, setting the the first glass aside, starting another. The pint started to sweat onto the bar. “I don’t see a lot of new faces.” He tilted his head. “Not this early, anyway. We’re more of a after-party place.”

He was about to pry for more information, but a short old man with thick glasses slid onto a stool at the bar, interrupting them. Jack heard his footsteps before he started talking to the bartender, who was topping off the last of the glasses.

“Dennis! Stop yappin’ and get to work,” He tapped his fingers on the bar, feet dangled from the stool he was sat on. He looked at the liquor shelf, which was barren. “Where’s Mac? He should be here by now.”

Dennis was annoyed, face already turning pink. He took out a brown circular tray and sat the beer on top, pushing it to Jack with a fake customer service smile. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your night!” 

Jack took the tray with both hands and made his way back to the table. Behind him he could hear the bartender argue with the short, fat man.

“Jesus, Frank. Can you leave me alone when I’m with customers? You’re repulsive.” He heard a big sigh. “I have no idea where Mac is, or Dee, for that matter! They better get here before we get busy or I’ll. . .”

Jack stopped listening, the bartender’s voice blended with the background noise. He set the tray on the table and looked at a nervous Ianto. “I tried to stop them,” He offered as an explanation. “They said they’d be quick.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t be mad. The place was a dump, and the employees clearly didn’t care. “They’re short staffed and they keep arguing with each other. I’m sure they won’t notice a thing.” He stated. Ianto relaxed in his seat.

“You got four pints,” Ianto laughed, pointing at the glasses of beer. 

“I thought we had a bigger table,” Jack replied. He plucked one off the tray and held  it up. “More for us. Cheers”

Ianto grabbed his own glass and clinked them together. “Cheers.” 

They both took big gulps. Jack's body didn’t get drunk easy, he could easily drink two full kegs before he felt any kind of buzz. He mostly drank for the taste. The beer tasted stale. 

“Did you get any intell?” Ianto asked. They both kept watch over the old man and the bartender. 

“Not much. The bartender, I think his name is Dennis. He mentioned two other employees, but they’re not here. That man,” He nodded toward the fat man on the bar stool. “Pretty sure he’s the boss.”

“Do you think any of them are our guy?” Ianto ran his finger over the condensation on his glass, his eyes scanned the room. 

“Not sure. We’ll know more when we all meet back at the hotel.” Jack tapped his chin in thought. “I should probably tell the others, huh.”

Ianto laughed, idly shaking his head. He took another big sip. Jack pulled out his phone and shot a quick text. He kept it short-  _ meet back at hotel when you’re done. text on the way.  _

He sent it to Toshiko. She replied a confirmation within a minute. 

“What do we do now?” Ianto asked. Jack took a big breath and looked back at the bar. Dennis and the boss were still talking. 

“We should keep them distracted, yeah?” Jack gave a cocky grin. “Follow my lead.” 

Jack chugged the rest of his beer and started on his second. Ianto tried to keep up, but ended up coughing halfway through his last one. Jack took it out of his hands and finished it for him.

“Okay, so, I’m from Philly, you’ve never been to the US, we’re here for a wedding. Let’s go charm these bastards.” Jack got up from the booth, pulling at Ianto’s hand to follow him. 

Ianto caught his breath and muttered out. “Yeah. No problem. I got a grand ol’ barrel a’ charm.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Dennis are the empitome of melodramatic and I live for it. 
> 
> Well its been a while. I have a few chapters ready to go, all they need is a bit of editing. Hopefully I can post regularly for a few weeks lmao


	5. Flake and Bake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie catches a rat, Mac and Dee have a uncomfortable conversation
> 
> T/w for the word fag in this chapter, nothing too terrible but it's there

Charlie bit Dennis’s hand and wriggled out of his grasp. Dennis cursed at him in a growl.

“Fuck you, asshole.” It was accompanied with a dangerous look. A regular guy would have caved at the stare, but Charlie was used to Dennis’s explosive anger. He scampered away into the keg room. Dennis would get over it.

He was just testy because Dee (the only other bartender) and Mac (his emotional buffer to the world) never showed up for their shift. Charlie remembered his conversation with Dee that morning and cursed himself for bothering with her shit. She even dragged Mac into it.

Charlie pulled out a bottle of vodka from behind an old dusty crate. He unscrewed the cap and drank it straight, an air bubble displaced the liquid as it poured into his mouth. It popped at the top with a wet glug _._

The wire trap was empty, the cheese he baited it with was gone as well. It was still open though, ready to close on whatever dared to step in its mouth.

Charlie squinted at it, mind blank with an occasional thought slipping by. He shook his head and blinked rapidly.  

“I’ll get you.” He whispered, baiting it again with some spare cheese from his jacket pocket. “Even if it kills me.”

His head swayed as he stood back up. He steadied himself quickly, he didn’t even feel that drunk, his body was just filled with feathers. The doorknob was cold in his hand as he twisted it, cracking the door slightly to see if Dennis was still pissed.

Charlie didn’t see much, but he heard him talking to some unfamiliar voices. They were talking about Dennis, of course, the guy loved talking about himself. One of the men had a weird accent that he placed as british (but slightly off? Charlie couldn’t tell).

“You were in a fraternity?” The british man asked.

“Hell yeah!” Dennis replied, probably with his creepy wide eyed smile. “I was bangin’ babes left and right. I was kind of a legend.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and took a swig of vodka, remembering their trip to his old frat. The _I chug dick!_ written in sharpie over his yearbook photo was a crystal clear image in his head _._ He slumped down to the floor and got comfortable, lazily sipping at his bottle.

“Let’s do shots!” Frank yelled. Charlie froze. He was hoping he wouldn’t run into Frank again until he caught the mutant rat. He kept his ear to the crack in the door anyway. Dennis got sloppy when he took shots, plus he was too lazy to move.

They downed their shots, and slammed their small glasses on the counter in unison.

“Mac better get here soon,” Dennis said, voice tight from the alcohol.

“That was the last of the tequila.” Frank hummed, containing a cough. The old man couldn’t put ‘em back like he used to.

“Who’s Mac?” A guy’s voice asked in a midwestern accent. Charlie could see part of him from behind the door. He had a long blue coat, his hair swooped over his forehead. He held himself with good posture.

Dennis hummed, frustration seeped into his words. “Mac’s our head of security. He’s, like, super annoying. Trust me, I live with the guy. We've been roommates for over twenty years. He’s the worst. He was- ”

“Oh, please, Dennis.” Frank interrupted. “Don’t start with this! No one wants to hear about your weird, codependent relationship with Mac.” He shifted, speaking quieter. He saw the man with the blue coat lean in. “Mac’s a good kid, he went on a liquor run. We had an. . . accident this morning and lost a lot of good booze. Seriously, don’t get him started.”

The strangers laughed. Charlie imagined how red Dennis’s face was.

“I understand.” Blue coat man replied. “Me and my buddy here are roommates back home.”

British man choked over his beer. “Yeah. We’re, uh. We’re really close. The best of friends.”  

Dennis cleared his throat, “You know Frank, those are big words coming from a man who sleeps in the same bed as another man half his age. You and Charlie are way weirder than me and Mac.” Dennis retorted, sounding smug. Charlie shook his head, there’s no way he and Frank were even on the same level of ‘horribly dysfunctional’ as them.

Frank groaned. “No way. There is no way we are as annoying as you two. End of conversation!” He slapped the bar like it was a gavel and he was the judge. “I’m gonna go cook the books. Goodnight, gentlemen.”

He heard a stool drag on the floor, and the plop of Frank’s feet landing on the hardwood. His footsteps were heavy, they trailed to the office where he heard a door snap shut.

“Cook- cooking the books. Wow. That’s hilarious, Frank!” Dennis laughed nervously, probably gritting his teeth. He was always putting up appearances. They were a shithole- why should they hide it? “We like to have fun here at Paddy’s, which is a completely legitimate establishment, by the way. Let’s get you guys another round!”

Charlie heard a shuffle somewhere beyond the door. He wondered what Frank was doing.

Dennis continued talking to the men, even as more customers trickled in. He did most of the talking, the men were only there as a means to blow his already too big ego. Charlie stopped paying attention after Frank left. Dennis was past tipsy, and his constant babble didn’t sit well with the vodka in his stomach. Plus, Dennis didn’t deserve the audience.

He heard more shuffling, he couldn’t place where the noise came from, but it wasn't the office.

A dragging noise came from the basement, then the rattle of metal. A hard snap of steel against steel. Charlie shot up, eyes wide. He sloppily put the vodka back in its place and rushed to get to the basement. The voices from the bar got muffled by the walls and floor, but he could hear every footstep as he got lower on the stairs.

His eyes scanned the room. His wire trap was placed by metal shelving to the right of the furnace. It was dark, the sound of rattling made his stomach flip. He could see an outline of an animal between the bars of the trap.

_I did it._

He pumped his fist in the air and let out a grunt in satisfaction. He flipped the light switch and shrieked.

“You are one ugly son of a bitch!” He choked, taking a timid step forward. The creature reeled in it’s cage, snarling with thousands of teeth.

Its fur looked like a sky with no stars- as dark as a void, devouring all light that touched it. Glowing red eyes stared at him like the flames of the furnace behind them. It’s claws scraped the bars like a saw against steel.

He started to wonder if it was a rat at all. It looked more like a demon from hell. But, it had a snout like a rat, and a tail like a rat, -and even though he had caught at least eleven ghouls in his life- it scared him to think it _wasn’t_ a rat. What else could it be?

Charlie timidly approached the creature, stumbling in his drunken state. He got a good few feet into the basement before he saw two human-shaped shadows sneak behind him. They raced up the stairs. He spun around too fast, and took a moment to collect himself before hobling to follow.

He peeked out of the door and saw nothing unusual. He could hear Dennis droning on about how annoying Mac was. The two guys at the bar were still prying about it, even with Frank’s warning earlier.

Charlie went back into the basement, smiling to himself. He tallied his ghoul number up to thirteen. What a magical, magical night _._

 

* * *

 

 

**6:08 PM**

**Meanwhile (Saturday Night)**

Dee was at some hipster whiskey bar. It was a bit of a walk, but Mac enjoyed the fresh air. The place was nice, everything was dark wood and industrial decor. Mac would have never went there if he wasn’t desperate to get wasted.

It was crowded, Mac searched through the sea of bodies for his scrawny blonde friend. He spotted her waving at him like an idiot. He shoved people aside as he made his way to her small table, which was already accumulating glasses.

Dee flagged down a waitress and ordered them both drinks. She polished off the one in her hands and shoved all her empties at the poor girl.

Mac sat down on the only other stool at the table. Dee wasn't completely gone yet, but she was definitely drunk. Mac was ready to catch up to her and forget about Dennis. Maybe he could try out his new toy on Dee. He gripped the box in his jean pocket and grinned to himself.

“What took so long? Too busy suckin’ Dennis’s dick?” Dee laughed.

“No!” Mac blushed, gripping the dark wood of the table with white knuckles. “What? Why would you say that? I’m not a fucking fag!”

Dee put her hand up and made a hurt expression. “It’s just a joke, dildo. Relax, will ya?”

He felt his stomach flip. He shoved his hand in his pocket, hoping it would erase his embarrassment too.

_Click_

He shoved his way to the table again, shaking his head to himself. He slid into the stool at the tiny table.

“What took you so long? Too busy suckin’ Dennis’s dick?” Dee laughed. Mac’s face was still hot, but he thought of a much better response.

“Shut up, bird.” He laughed along, heart slowing down to a normal pace. Mac willed himself to relax, but his whole body stayed tense.

The waitress came back with a few glasses of whiskey. Dee offered two to Mac and held her own in the air. “Yer’ behind. Salut!”

“Salut,” He downed one and sipped at the other.

Mac and Dee didn’t hang out much alone. When they did, it was to get smashed. Dee didn’t like drinking by herself. She also didn’t want to drink with just Dennis or Frank; and Charlie was terrible to take anywhere public. Mac was her best option. Mac was just down to get smashed whenever. He did feel pretty grateful for Dee for getting him out of the bar, Dennis was probably gonna wring his neck when he got back.

“Look at these tools.” Dee whispered too loud. Mac smelled the whiskey on her breath. “That guy’s wearing suspenders with skinny jeans. What he trying to suspend? Those pants wouldn’t even come off with pliers.”

Mac laughed. Dee was funny sometimes, but it was probably the whiskey. Dee ordered more, Mac graciously put the tab on Frank’s card. They sat judging everyone around them for a good twenty minutes. Mac finally caught up, leaning and swaying over the table. They laughed hard at each other's terrible jokes.

“Dee, the girl over there.” Mac motioned with the nod of his head. Dee followed his gaze to a tan girl with long black hair under a beanie. “Those have to be fake glasses. I bet they don't even have any lenses.”

Dee lifted an eyebrow, sipping at her drink. “Oh, yeah? How much?”

Mac shuffled around in his jacket pockets and pulled out whatever was in there. “Thirty-two cents and a receipt from Subway.”

“Deal. I bet they’re real. Get ready to lose, looser.” Mac finished his whiskey as Dee whipped out her phone. She held it under a light, making a beam that glared straight into the girl’s eye. The girl winced, her hand came up to her face, fingers bumping against her glass lenses.

Dee hollored as she slapped her winnings off the table. “Suck my dick!”

Mac rolled his eyes and huffed. “You’re just lucky. They’re totally fake, she’s too hot for glasses.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is.” Dee chuckled, but looked uncomfortable. She looked like she was about to talk about her feelings. They never talk about feelings. Mac ordered another whiskey. Why do they only serve whiskey?

Dee got one too, they sipped in silence. Dee grimaced and spoke first. “ ’m sick of whiskey. Let’s bounce,”

Mac nodded at her, they slammed their last drinks and left. Mac got up on shaky legs. He was pretty drunk already, but not as drunk as he wanted to be.

The air hit him with a cold burst. He zipped his jacket up all the way. The whiskey felt warm in his stomach. Dee shivered beside him.

When they were far enough away from the bar, Dee turned to him with a devious smirk. She pulled out a Ziplock from her ugly coat pocket. A fat rolled cigarette hung heavy in the plastic.

“Herb, anybody?” She said slyly. Mac laughed (it was definitely the whiskey), he took the baggie and ducked into an alley.

Marijuana wasn’t Dee’s usual drug of choice. She used to smoke with Mac, Dennis, and Charlie in high school, but she would never buy her own. She must have gotten it for Mac.

He lit it up and took a deep, deep breath to get it started. The alley smelled like trash, they were by at least three dumpsters, but Mac didn’t care. He leaned his back against the cool brick wall, letting the smoke seep into his drunk brain.

He passed it to Dee, who had that dumb look on her face again.

“Hey,” Dee’s voice was small, smoke blew out of her nose as she ducked her head down. Mac already shoved his hand in his jean pocket, ready to erase whatever she was going to say. “Have you ever-” She rolled her eyes and took another hit, then passed it back. “Have you ever had a real girlfriend?”

Mac felt bile rising in his throat. He was already pressing the button slightly, not enough to do anything.

“Dee, I am _so_ not interested.” Mac took a greedy hit, not looking at her. “That’s so gross.”

“No, no, no. I’m- No. Ew!” She protested hard. Her face was twisted in disgust. He let off the button, but kept his hand in place. “I mean like, have you ever loved anyone you went out with?”

He bit his lip, thinking, then shook his head. “No, I pretty much just bang. This stallion can’t be tamed, Dee.” He said smugly. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Mac felt a connection with everyone he slept with, but it wasn’t love. It was something different, something that just craved the praise and attention. There was no love in it at all.

“Do you think there’s a reason?” Dee snatched the joint back from him. “Why you’ve never loved a girl?”

Mac scrunched up his face, pushing off the wall and into a defensive stance. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? What are you getting at?”

Dee finished the joint and stubbed it out with her big shoe.

“Have you ever thought about, y’know. . . men? In a romantic way?” She sounded like she already knew the answer, but was trying to get him to admit it. Mac’s head felt like a balloon about to pop. The words took a moment to settle in his brain.

The weed made him feel lazy, she probably wanted to sedate him before she dropped this bomb.

Mac shoved his hands in his pocket and erased it all.

_Click_

“Have you ever-” The joint was back in Dee’s hands, she took a drag and passed it back to Mac. He took a small hit that time, already feeling too stoned for the conversation. “Have you ever had a real girlfriend?”

“I’m not gay, Dee.” He huffed. She opened her mouth in shock.

“How did you-”

“You guys are always accusing me of being gay!” He tried to keep his voice down, but it was difficult with how wasted he was. “Why? I don't get it! I have banged so many chicks.”

He started to walk away. Dee threw the roach on the ground, only half used. She followed him, catching his shoulder.

“Okay, whatever! You aren’t gay, or whatever. Just listen to me,”

“I’m _not_ gay!” He shoved her off.

“Well, maybe I am. Maybe I need a friend right now, and you’re being a huge dick, you dick!” She sounded angry, but she stopped trying to catch him.

Mac stopped and turned around, looking at her in confusion. “Dee, you know that’s like, a huge sin? A man shall not lie with-” He stopped himself, biting his chapped lips. “Well, that one’s for dudes. But I bet there’s verse for chicks in there!” Dee threw her hands up in frustration. Mac’s heart was beating so fast it hurt. “Why would you tell me this, anyway? I’m, like, the worst person to tell this to.”

“I thought you’d- I dunno. Relate?” She said it quietly, stepping closer to him. “I know you’ve thought about it. I see how you look at my brother. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

The words cut through him like a hot knife. Mac felt tears burning in his eyes. They were bloodshot as fuck from the weed, but it wasn’t why he started crying. He _had_ thought about it. Too much, even. No matter how hard he prayed, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was pathetic.

He gaped at her for a moment, before fumbling in his pockets. Dee looked so honest and open. Mac hated it.

_Click_

He was walking away from Dee. He hoped it would have gone back farther, he wanted another hit before Dee carelessly stomped out the joint. She was such an ungrateful bitch.

“Okay, whatever! You aren’t gay, or whatever. Just listen to me,”

Tears rolled down his face, but he puffed out his chest. He didn’t turn around, he wanted to look angry and tough. He was pathetic. “What?” He barked out. He didn’t know why he stopped walking.

“I can’t talk to Dennis about this. Or Frank. Or Charlie. They would just make it worse. I don’t really have other friends.” She sniffled. She was crying. Mac rolled his eyes. He turned around to face her. At least he looked less pathetic than Dee. “I think _I_ might be gay- or something. I thought you’d understand. I’m just feeling really alone.”

Dee cleared her throat and wiped the tears off her face. These words weren’t any better than the last redo, but Mac knew he had to face them no matter what. At least she wasn’t trying to get him to admit anything this time. Dee was such a bitch.

“Whatever. Y’know, don’t bother. Forget I said anything.” She looked unbelievably small under the lone street lamp. She stood in the middle, finally in the spotlight, but she resembled a dumpster fire more than a star.

Mac kicked a leaf with the toe of his boot. He screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he spoke. “I- ugh. I understand.” Mac confessed. He tried to say, _“You’re right, I’m gay and I’m very lonely,”_ but all he could muster was, “I know.”

He thought about erasing it all, he didn’t have to live with his confession, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would still have to live with Dee’s words, even if they never technically happened. He would still have to live with his urges. He would still live in temptation and sin. He would still have feelings for Dennis.  

Mac was tired of it all. He just wanted a break from everything. He blushed hard, averting his eyes. “I- uh. I think there’s a bar a few blocks away from here. A- um. A gay one.” He prayed for God’s forgiveness, hoping He wouldn’t mind if it was just one night. “You could try to pick up some chicks or something.”

Dee laughed, visibly relaxing. One last tear rolled down her face. She pulled herself together.

Mac slung his arm over her shoulders, giving her a firm side hug. It was weird and awkward, but they never talked about feelings. Everything felt weird and awkward.

“Hey, Dee,” He said, pulling away from the hug. He shoved his hands in his jacket. His head felt light, his body buzzed with whiskey and smoke. His thoughts wandered back to the hipster bar. “Remember when Dennis was a hippie for a week?”

Dee cackled like a witch. It was an ugly sound, but it made him giggle along with her. “He’s such a moron.” She wheezed.

Mac lead the way to the bar while they talked. He felt his phone buzz a few times, but ignored it.

It was a cold walk, but Mac didn’t care. He felt better, relaxed even. Every step was a small pressure lifted from his heavy shoulders (if only for one night), he felt better.

**Author's Note:**

> This is truely a wild ride of a story. I just couldn't stop thinking about it so here we are. 
> 
> I limited the time travel for the sake of everyone's sanity, and the sake of the narrative. You can still fuck up a lot in 60 seconds though! And they will find a way to do it


End file.
